


The Bet

by themysticalsong



Series: Tumblr Prompts [21]
Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 10:56:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1855504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themysticalsong/pseuds/themysticalsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex finds out Matt is a more than adequate cook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bet

 

 

 

Alex glares at him from across the room as Matt lounges on the couch, watching World Cup finals. As if sensing it, he turns his head to wink at her, a smug smile on his face.

"You know, when you asked me to dress as a French maid- this was not what I had in mind."

If anything, his smile broadens into a full fledged, 1000 watt, in-your-face annoying grin, “Not my fault you lost the bet, Kingston. Now, bring me some beer from the fridge, and don’t forget to clean the laundry.”

She narrows her eyes at him, clearly displeased. Matt blows her a kiss before turning back to the television. “Told you I’m an excellent cook. Now get back to what you signed up for.”

 

——-

 

"That is not how you make onion bhajjis, Kingston."

Matt chortles, turning off the laptop. For some reason, he and Salome had been watching some of her videos and interviews on YouTube, and had just finished A Taste of My Life.

"Excuse me?" Alex looks at him, a bit offended, "I will have you know that Nigel is a renowned expert and he told me my onion bhajjis were excellent."

"I don’t know about that, but the way you were making them on the show…" he trails off, shrugging a bit at the end.

Her arms crossed and lips pursed, Alex taps her foot impatiently, “Oh? So you tell me then how do we make onion bhajjis, O Great Cookery Lord.”

"That’s about right," Matt laughs, tapping her nose on his way to kitchen. Alex rolls her eyes as she leans against the counter, a hand on her hip, "Why don’t we have a face off, then, if you think you are such a good cook? Mano-a-Mano. Salome can be the judge.”

Her voice drops a notch, a sultry lilt to her words, and Matt pauses in swallowing. He turns turns to look at her with a half smile on his face, devilish glint in his eyes, “Oh. I don’t think, Ms. Kingston. I know. There is no need for a face-off.”

"Why? Afraid you’ll lose?" She smirks as Matt moves closer, trapping her between himself and the kitchen counter. Leaning in closer, Matt whispers over her ear, relishing in the shiver that passes through her as her fingers curl in his t-shirt, "What are the stakes, Kingston?" He presses against her, "You do my bidding if you lose, and I do yours? Or, something-", a tongue darts out to lick the rim of her ear, "-more tasteful?"

Alex struggles to focus on her words. “How about-” a gasp as he kisses below her ear-“I get an entire weekend with you to do as I please”- a moan as he nibbles his way down, “-or vice versa?”

Matt immediately pulls away, beaming at her, “Be ready to become my slave for the weekend, Kingston.”

The thought itself is so delicious that Alex finds herself smiling, “Can’t wait, darling.”

It would be so much fun to have him as her slave for the weekend. So many things she wants to try. So many fantasies-

Except, it turns out, he is a much, much better cook than her.

She reluctantly chews the bhajjis he extends towards her after the face off, watching grumpily as Salome polishes off an entire dish full of them. They actually are quite delicious.

As sore as she feels about it, Alex is quite a gracious loser. She compliments Matt on his cooking, a small, tight smile on her face. He only grins and tugs her closer, “Friday night. 8 pm. Come dressed as a French maid. And don’t be late.”

 

——-

 

"Oi!"

She looks up from where she is preparing things to bake biscuits for his fucking majesty. Being his slave, dressed in an extremely short french maid dress- she had thought of a weekend spent exploring the fun side of their relationship. But this-

"Enough daydreaming. I asked you for beer and biscuits."

She almost throws her apron at him. Apart from a brief kiss when she had knocked at his door, Matt hasn’t even touched her. And it is getting frustrating.

"I hate you."

Matt winks at her again, a strange look in his eyes as he rakes his eyes over her form- nothing new; he has been doing that all weekend- as he smirks, “Don’t forget the ice, dear.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
